That Insufferable Cad
by rhiawoods
Summary: Watch the sparks fly when James gets a job at Flourish and Blotts, and Lily is working at Quality Quidditch Supply! How will these teenagers ever get over their differences? No longer oneshot.


Disclaimer: I lay no claim to any character, place, or idea presented by JK Rowling in the Harry Potter series.

This story sprung forth in a series of devilish ideas that made me grin and chuckle wickedly. I couldn't resist writing them down, which made me grin wickedly again.

There are parts that are in James' point of view, starting in the next chapter. Lily's thoughts will be in normal type, and James' will be in **bold.**

So, without further ado, I would like to present…

………

That Insufferable Cad

James Potter is the bane of my existence. Really, he is. He just goes on, getting everything handed to him on a silver platter, just because he's James Potter, whilst the rest of us go about, working our butts off, and watching the fruit of our labors go to that insufferable cad. He really knows no bounds. Everything I have worked for these past six years has been surpassed by him. And he doesn't even try! I repeat, that insufferable cad.

Oh, I suppose I should back up a little, explain this latest rant in a long line of similar speeches. So, from the beginning, I am Lily Evans. I am witch. Really. Now stop raising those eyebrows. It's true. Even if you don't believe me. Anyway, I attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Incidentally, what is the difference? Why is there a distinction between witches and wizards? But I digress. I met that horrendous excuse for a wizard on the Hogwarts Express at the beginning of my first year. Since then, he has tried to drive me insane on every occasion he could. And succeeded quite well, though I will never let him know that.

So, this summer, two weeks after leaving my sixth year at Hogwarts, I decided I needed to get a summer job. For two reasons- one, get out of the house and avoid Petunia, my oh-so-odious sister, and two, fund my growing collection of books. That's something else about me- I am a self proclaimed bibliophile. Oh, stop looking at me like that! It's nothing dirty!

Anyway, back to my awe-inspiring narrative, I needed a summer job. Perusing the Daily Prophet one day over my morning orange juice and muffin- the first time I had looked at the newspaper in a week, in fact- I found an advertisement for the perfect summer job. Absolutely perfect. Flourish and Blotts, that amazing bookshop on Diagon Alley, was looking for an assistant. Part time, no experience necessary. Perfect. With a bonus employee discount. Even more perfect.

Dressing comfortably for the warm weather, while still looking professional, responsible, and witch-like is never an easy task. But I managed it, and summoned the Knight bus to take me to the Leaky Cauldron. After a harrowing journey across the country and back, I made my way shakily off the triple-decker violently purple bus and entered the dingy pub. And exited quickly, as old Tom gives me the willies. His eyes are just plain creepy. I shudder just thinking about them…

Passing through the magical barrier, I walked quickly and jauntily down the street, momentarily tempted by Fortenesque's ice cream parlor, thanks to the blistering heat, but continued, entering the bookshop. Bypassing the enticing rows of books, I made my way to the back of the store, in search of the manager, with whom I had more than a passing acquaintance, due to my bibliophile-ness. Knocking on the door to her office, I opened it, giving a cheerful "Good morning, Kelsey!" as I stepped in.

"Hm?" The silver-haired woman looked up from her paperwork. Kelsey is an elegant older woman. Her wavy hair is always pulled back into a chignon. Her eyes are kind and framed by silver wire frames. "Oh, good morning, Lily. Is there anything I can get for you this fine day?"

I often asked Kelsey to get me harder to find books, so it was natural that she would assume that was the purpose of my visit that day. "No, not today. I'm actually here about the job in the Daily Prophet," I explained.

"The job?" Kelsey looked confused. As intelligent and bookworm-ish as she was, the woman could be very absentminded.

"You were looking for an assistant," I reminded her.

"Oh, yes, the assistant's post. I'm terribly sorry, dear, but we filled it just yesterday. A very nice young man, in fact. If I had known you were interested, I would have contacted you right away. Again, I'm sorry."

I really like Kelsey, and I knew her absentminded tendencies, so I tried not to let my disappointment show in my face. "Oh, that's okay. I'll look elsewhere. Do you know of any jobs anywhere else?"

"Yes, actually. They're hiring next door, at Quality Quidditch Supplies."

"Oh, well, um…" Quality Quidditch Supplies? That could be the worst summer job imaginable. "Well, I'll see. Thanks for telling me. I guess I should go, then."

"Alright, Lily, dear. Let me know if there's anything else I can do for you." Kelsey went back to her paperwork as I left her office, closing the door quietly behind me.

And just like that, my perfect summer job was gone. Shaking my hair out of my eyes, I wandered through the bookstore for a few minutes, going over my options. I could go next door, but then I could also pull my fingernails out. It would be about as much fun. I decided instead to see who else was hiring in Diagon Alley.

Before I did that, though, I would spend a few more minutes browsing Flourish and Blotts. Well, I would have, had I not seen an all too familiar shock of black hair moving down the next aisle over toward me. Instantly, my mind flashed back to Kelsey's comment, "A very nice young man, in fact." Could it possibly be… _Potter_? Almost as instantly, I laughed quietly at my folly. Absentminded Kelsey could be, but I couldn't imagine that she would call that boy a "nice young man." _Nobody_ in their right mind would call _him_ a "nice young man."

Before Potter could turn the corner into my aisle, I quickly left the store.

………

It took two hours, walking up and then down Diagon Alley, searching for "Help Wanted" signs. There weren't any. Except on that stupid Quidditch supply store. Bah. I stopped and asked at a few places, despite the great dearth of advertised positions. They all told me, ask at Quality Quidditch Supplies. They're hiring. Double bah. I did not want to work there.

After my fruitless search, I took lunch in an open air café across the street from Flourish and Blotts and Quality Quidditch Supplies. Enjoying a tall glass of iced pumpkin juice, I watched the bookstore, contemplating the rest of the summer. It suddenly looked _very_ long. As I watched, I saw Potter's head again. What was he still doing in there? He'd better not be making trouble for Kelsey. At least now he was in the right section- for him at least- the sports section.

I scowled into the contents of my glass, swirling the juice and setting the ice cubes clinked together. Seeing Potter in that section of the bookstore brought some thoughts together for me. I may not be able to have my dream job, but maybe I can have _his._ Maybe I could talk to the manager. _Maybe_ take the job. And when Potter came into the store- because doubtless, he would sometime- I could finally show him up. Finally beat him at something. It gets really annoying, him always being better than me. Stupid Potter.

My mind made up, I set my glass down with a determined clunk and strode across the street, my open robe swirling around my legs through the dust. Pushing the door open caused an answering chime from the bells attached to the top. If I got the job, that would get very annoying very quickly. I slipped past the boys crowded around some broomstick or another. Some were actually drooling. That would probably get even more annoying even more quickly. Perhaps this wasn't the best idea. Oh, me and my stupid pride.

Sighing, I gritted my teeth and asked the clerk if the manager was in and if I could speak to him.

"Certainly! Follow me!" The young man, smiling cheerfully, turned and led me through a door, and then stopped before an open office. "Here you are!" He then left me, standing like a fool before the desk, behind which sat a fat, balding middle-aged man.

"What do you want?" Apparently, a grumpy fat, balding middle-aged man.

"Um…"

He scowled. "Well, speak up, girl."

"Er… job?" I squeaked.

He continued scowling.

I took a deep breath. "You, you have a job opening?"

"Is that a question?" Dang, this guy was menacing.

"Yes?"

"Who are you?"

"Lily Evans, sir."

"And you want the job?"

"Yes, sir."

"What do you know about Quidditch?"

Crap. It looked like I might fail this interview. Time to pull out the big guns. I hate doing this. It's so… _humiliating_.

Steeling myself, I opened my eyes wide, arranging my face into my patented Lily Evans- Innocent and Trustworthy look. It works every time. Like a charm. I made my voice sweet and breathless. I hate having to do this.

"Well, sir, not much, but I've always wanted to know more about this noble game, the staple of the wizarding sports world. This chance to learn is more than I could have imagined." The old man was softening, I could tell. Time for the icing on the cake. I fluttered my eyelashes at him.

"Well… hmph." He blew air out his nose. I winced internally for the papers spread haphazardly across his desk. "If you really feel that way… I don't know. Are you of age?"

"Yes. Yes, I am."

He harrumphed again. "Well, I suppose… Read these and come back tomorrow." He handed me two magazines- _Which Broomstick_ and the current issue of _Quidditch Weekly._

I looked at him for a moment. "Ah, does that mean I have the job?"

"Yes." He grunted, going back to whatever he was doing before I interrupted him.

I went back out to the main part of the shop, clutching the magazines to my chest. The cheerful clerk saw me come out and bounded over.

"Well, it looks like Dad approved of you!"

I gaped at him, trying, and failing, to find any resemblance between the two.

Correctly interpreting my expression, the clerk winked and said, "Yep, that's my dear old dad. I'm Tim, by the way. His name's Charlie. Mostly we just call him the old goat, though. But don't let him hear that." Tim stuck his hand out and grabbed my hand, shaking it a couple times.

"I'm Lily."

"Great to have you on, Lily." Beckoning for me to follow him, Tim returned to work, making sure the shelves were fully stocked. "Now, there are a few things you should know about this place. One, Dad really doesn't like you to use magic in the shop. When he's not here, we can get away with it, but he seems to think that magic will endanger the merchandise or something." Tim rolled his eyes. "Also, he never thinks we're making enough of a profit. So about once a week, he tells us to come up with some ideas for cutting back expenses and increasing revenue. Just ignore him. We're doing fine."

He was one of those people who talk unceasingly, but not in an annoying way, so I stayed for a while to get to know him and the workplace. I warmed to Tim quickly. His cheerful, friendly air made that easy.

And just like that, I had a summer job.

………

So, four days later, I'd been at the job for three days. Three long, rather dull days. I was sitting on the counter, mostly ignoring Tim extol the virtues of the newest broomstick for a clump of eager boys and the occasional even more eager girl. It's strange how the girls who are fanatical about sports are more so than the boys. I'd only heard this speech five times that day alone, so I was mostly concentrating on the ends of my short braids, examining them for split ends.

This is the last time I get a job just to spite some idiot boy, I swore to myself. It's worse than cutting your hair for the same reason. Trust me, I know. I did it, last year, after hearing Potter make some remark about my hair. I went straight up to my room and chopped it all off. And tried dying it. Two hours later, after my roommates exhausted their knowledge of hair charms, it was cut into a somewhat presentable style. The color, however… Let's just say I'm glad it grew out really fast.

Anyway, I was sitting there, examining my hair, when I heard a sound that isn't often heard in a sports store of any sort. A high pitched, girly giggle. I looked up and saw Sirius Black, second only to Potter in annoying-ness, and his flavor of the week, some insipid blonde, whom I have never had the doubtable pleasure of meeting. His arm was draped across her shoulders, his hand resting quite a bit lower than it ought to be. It was this girl who had giggled. Seeing me, Black grinned roguishly and made his way through the crowd, ending up right in front of me. "Well, well, well, what have we here?"

"Bug off, Black."

"Now, Lily, you shouldn't speak to me that way. You might make me think you don't like me."

"And?"

Insipid Blonde broke into our 'friendly' exchange. "Like oh, my gosh! Your name's, like, Lily? I'm Lisa! We have like, the same name!" she gushes, with an American accent. Which would explain why I'd never seen her before…

I barely contain a snort of derision, looking at Black as if to ask what in the world he sees in this airhead. "What an amazing coincidence." My voice was drier than toast, but the girl didn't notice anything. Black grinned and winked suggestively. I shuddered. I did not want to know what he does in his free time. Unfortunately, the Hogwarts gossip chain is quite clear on that account. I shuddered again, trying to rid my mind of Black's wicked grin.

"So… Lily." Black interrupted my mind-clearing.

I glared at him. "What do you want?"

"Well…" The look on his face was frighteningly innocent. This could not be good. "Well, you do sell broomsticks."

"And…?"

"And I think I want one."

"But, Siry, I thought you had a broomstick. You said you would take me for a ride later." Insipid Blonde simpered, playing with a rabbit shaped necklace. I covered another snort of derision at the nickname in a cough.

"Yes, love, _that_ broom's fine," Black reassured Insipid Blonde. "I just want a new one."

Yeah, right. More like he wanted to torture me, because he didn't think I knew the first thing about broomsticks. Too bad for him, I'd been studying. I slid off the counter, beckoning for Black to follow me. He came, pulling Insipid Blonde along with us. "Well, I might be able to help you. What exactly do you look for in a broom?"

"Er-" I caught him off guard. "I like… fast."

I rolled my eyes. One of the greatest (ahem) Quidditch players at Hogwarts and all he can manage is that he likes 'fast.' "Well, the Silver Arrow series…" And I was off, reciting facts and figures that I've memorized from the only literature to be found- allowed- in a Quidditch shop- _Which Broomstick_ and _Quidditch Weekly._ Black looked flabbergasted. I knew he just wanted to make me look like a fool!

As we headed off toward the Silver Arrow collection, Insipid Blonde was distracted by a toy broomstick for the younger witch. ("Oh, it's pink!") As she left, I finally let out a sound that lets Black know exactly what I thought about this girl. "Where in the world did you find that one? Under the stupid rock?"

Black put on his best superior look. "For your information, she's James' mum's best friend's cousin's daughter."

"You have got to be kidding me. That sounds like a bad joke."

"Well, now that you remind me, a wizard, a priest and a dog all walk into a bar…"

I cut him off with an extra special glare.

"Yeah, Mrs. Potter's best friend and her cousin came to visit. And they just couldn't leave Lisa in California all by her lonesome. Some perverted American wizard might try to take advantage of her." Black attempts an innocent voice. The result was frightening. "And James got some summer job-" Black rolled his eyes to show his opinion of such an endeavor- "so it fell to me to squire her around."

"So they brought her here where a perverted _British_ wizard _will_ take advantage of her."

"Well, better the known evil than then uncertain peril."

I just gave him a look of extreme incredulity.

"Oh, well, you know."

I did know. That was the problem. "Anyway… Back to the broom…" I really just wanted him out of the shop, but I was paid partly on commission, so I would force myself to endure his presence as long as he might buy a broom.

"Meh, I don't really want a broom. I just wanted to see you squirm."

"You!" I was suddenly infuriated, and gave Black my best glare, reserved only for occasions like this.

"Merlin, Lily, if looks could kill, you wouldn't need one of these." Black tapped his wand, which was secured to his left forearm with black leather straps, which matched his pants. Because, of course, he's seventeen and of age. So he could carry the thing, and did. Not many people didn't, what with You-Know –Who running around, trying to take control of the world.

I ignored that comment.

"Seriously. You-Know-Who himself would run screaming from the face you're making."

I snorted scathingly.

"Your eyes are the right color and everything."

"Just get out!"

"That was a compliment, you know."

I didn't say anything, just made a noise of outrage.

"Fine." Black left, snagging Insipid Blonde around the waist and tearing her away from the display of pink broomsticks on his way past. I watched them go with a great feeling of relief.

Like I said, Black is second only to Potter in the category of imbecile. It wasn't too far into our third year when I was forced to be disabused of the rather naïve notion that "Gryffindor" was synonymous with "moral, upstanding and good in all ways." You need Hufflepuffs for that. Sirius Black was anything but moral and upstanding. Tales of boys and broom closets are the main topics of gossip in my dormitory. Every week, it seemed, Black had another girl.

For a while, I thought there was something wrong with me, because he left me alone, except for the flirting that is his normal conversation with the fairer sex. I was worried that he never asked me out because there was something wrong with me. Until, that is, I realized it was because Potter had laid claim to me and would never talk to Black again if he did anything to me. I was split between relief that I was okay and annoyance at Potter, because he had claimed me when I really couldn't stand the boy. Annoyance won out when all my Hogsmeade dates started growing things out their ears and Potter wouldn't leave me alone.

If I never saw either Black or Potter again, it would be too soon.

………

Unfortunately, the next annoyance wouldn't wait for ever. As I returned from lunch across the street, I saw a tall, dark-haired boy lounging against my counter. The peace I gained during my lunch hour disappeared instantly. My eyebrows snapped together and my leisurely stroll turned into more of a stomp. And then I remembered why I took this job. My mood lightened- a little, anyway. It was time to make Potter green with jealousy.

"Hey, Evans," he drawled, giving me a glance that would make any other girl swoon. His charm was lost on me. Too bad for him.

"Potter." I replied tersely, trying to keep my face blank. It simply wouldn't do for Potter to know that I had any ulterior motives. I went behind the counter and started shuffling papers.

"Now, love, don't speak to me like that."

I hated it when he called me "love."

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you." Potter twirled his hand lazily and produced a rose. Sleight of hand. I had seen the rose when I came in.

"Right. Why?" I ignored the proffered flower. He set it on the counter.

"Well, Sirius mentioned you were here."

"Oh, I see, sending your watch dog out to spy on me, are you?"

"Not at all. He thought he'd share a little piece of interesting news. Two of my favorite things, all in one cozy little shop." Potter grinned arrogantly.

I glared at him. Maybe this jealous thing wouldn't work so well. He was annoying me already, just by leaning against my counter in that arrogant manner. "Shouldn't you be working?"

"It's my lunch break."

"Shouldn't you be eating lunch?"

"I already did."

"Shouldn't you be leaving?"

"Don't want to."

I glared some more.

"How did- well, I guess you saw me."

"Potter, if you expect me to understand you, you'd better make some sense." Oh, what I would have given to be able to wipe that smirk off his face.

"Isn't that how you know I'm working?"

"No, dimwit, Black told me."

"Well, you're always in there," Potter said defensively.

"_Where_? Last couple days, I've always been _here._"

"Next door."

I snorted. Next door, on the other side from Flourish and Blotts, is a very fussy old lady dress shop. I still refused to entertain the thought that _Potter_ would work in a _bookstore_. "Matilda's? You work at Matilda's?" I scoffed.

"No, don't be ridiculous. Flourish and Blotts." Potter smirked even harder, if such a thing was possible.

It took a minute for that to sink in. When it did, I was absolutely dumbfounded. I dropped my papers and my mouth was literally hanging open as I stared at Potter in astonishment. "Wh- But- How?" That's all I managed to say.

"Kelsey's an old friend of my mum's."

"But, you! At a bookstore!"

"Yeah, Mum made me. She thought it would teach me responsibility or something."

I was still astonished. "You took my job!"

"Did I? I didn't know it was yours." Potter faked an innocent look.

I'd had enough. He's the one who was supposed to be jealous, not me. "Oh, bug off, Potter."

Pulling his wand out, he lazily Transfigured one of a nearby display of Snitches into a giant black beetle, which buzzed off, butting up against the window. Because of course he can. He's seventeen. Has been for a while. As if anyone could forget it. A huge party in the common room, and then Flooing off to private apparition lessons every weekend. Because his stupid family is that stupid rich. Stupid Potter. Just wait until I'm out of this shop. I'd show him. As I entertained this delightful train of thought, trying to decide which curse would be the most beneficial to me, he interrupted. "So, you're a salesman."

I made no reply, except to give him an extra special look. One that would send many people into convulsions of fear. Unfortunately, I think I've used it on Potter too much. It didn't seem to have much of an effect on him.

"Sales_woman._ Terribly sorry. I don't know how I could forget that detail.

I poured more power into my look.

"And you sell Quidditch supplies."

I thought maybe I should try a different tactic. I looked away, trying to ignore him, as my glare clearly wasn't working.

"And I think I would like a new broom."

Unbelievable. I would find Black and when I did, I would pull each fingernail out very slowly with rusty pliers. I told Potter that he can go do something my mother definitely wouldn't approve of, if she was here. Thankfully, she wasn't.

"Language, Lily. You wouldn't want to scare the poor children."

I couldn't believe him. I simply couldn't. Sirius Black I might be able to stand, if there was something in it for me. But not James Potter. I snapped my arm out, pointing at the door. "Leave. Now."

"Come on, Evans. You know you like it."

"Oh, just you wait," I replied menacingly. I'd make sure you never annoy me again. Sewing your mouth shut permanently has its virtues…

"Until what? If it has anything to do with you, I can't wait."

Castration had its high points, as well. "Get out before I call Tim."

Sudden jealousy colored Potter's face. Well, I guess I managed it, finally. It's annoying, though, that he got jealous when I mentioned another guy, but not when I had the job I thought he would want. "Who's Tim?" he asked, fingering his wand. It looked like someone else was pondering castration as well.

"Oh, just a good friend of mine. A very good friend." Never mind that I'd only known him about four days. The little white lie couldn't hurt. Anything to get rid of Potter. His face darkened even more. "He's really strong." I sighed dreamily, hamming it up a little. Hopefully, Tim wouldn't come back until Potter was gone. He isn't exactly strong. Pretty scrawny, actually. "He'd be able to get rid of you like _that_." I snapped my fingers.

"Where is he?" I knew that tone. It's the one that says he's about to make something grow out of someone's ears. Or worse. I hoped Potter wouldn't actually hurt Tim. He is a nice guy, after all. Looking at Potter's face, which is steadily growing darker, I bit my lip to stifle a giggle. His jealous tendencies really are quite humorous. Useful, too. I admit, I have shamelessly exploited this inclination of his. He's gotten rid of at least one overly persistent Ravenclaw admirer of mine. Of course I'd never let him know how he saved me.

"Um, he takes his lunch at the Leaky Cauldron." It's at the other end of Diagon Alley. Tim was actually in the back, going over some things with the old goat. I mean, Charlie. Even just a few days in his employment had taught me the real character of the man- grouchy and tightfisted. It's a wonder we were paid even as much as we were.

"I'll see you later," Potter said brusquely, stalking out of the shop. For the moment, the shop was empty. I breathed a sigh of relief. I had finally gotten rid of the insufferable cad. He was off on a wild goose chase, hunting down some guy he doesn't know. I laughed out loud, knowing that his idea of Tim was completely wrong… though I thought that maybe I should warn Tim, anyway. Potter could have quite the vicious streak.

As though he heard my thoughts, Tim came swaggering out from the back, where he had obviously been listening to Potter and me, as an impish grin graced his face. "A very good friend, am I?"

I blushed, embarrassed. "Oh, go suck an egg."

It hadn't taken long for Tim to get used to my habitual acerbic replies. He just laughed and tugged the end of a braid. I swatted his hand away. "Now, why would I want to do something like that? I prefer my eggs cooked."

I laughed. Tim has this amazing ability to make people at ease and dispel gloom of all kinds. The last vestiges of disgust at Potter disappeared and I pulled myself up onto the counter again, swinging my legs cheerfully. "So, what did the old goat want?"

"Apparently we aren't selling enough." Tim waved the concerns of his father away with a wave of his hand and a laugh.

"So why'd he hire me?"

"I think he just wanted a pretty face around." Tim flirted with everyone, in a genial way, not like Black's lasciviousness. Black may not be Dark, like the rest of his family, but he seems to have missed a few vital lessons in morals. I don't mind Tim's teasing. It's fun, in fact. Good practice, even.

"To make up for yours?" I winked, as Tim put a hand over his heart with a deeply wounded- and completely fake- expression. Despite Charlie's moods and the obvious reason of it being a Quidditch shop, this really was a fun place to work. I had been surprised, but very pleased, to discover that.

Our light-hearted ribbing continued for most of the day, except when Charlie came out into the shop and when we had an abundance of customers. The afternoon passed quickly and before I knew it, I was catching the Knight bus to go home.

………

This has been the new and improved first chapter of That Insufferable Cad! Thank you for tuning in! Now, please review. I give cookies! Or at least, responses.


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